


Fireworks

by thebestworstthing (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Acephobia, Anger, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexual!Dan, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Bisexual Character, Crying, Internalized Acephobia, M/M, Mentions of Masturbation, Mentions of Sex, but not graphic, im so proud of this, its like my baby, mentions of porn, panromatic character, upset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6765853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thebestworstthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He has his first girlfriend when he is 14. It lasts for two weeks and the furthest they go is kissing. Just like before, it’s not magical. Dan realises that maybe the fireworks aren’t for everybody. "</p><p>Dan starts to question his orientation at age 13 but it's not until he's 22 that he finally gets an answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for so long and I'm so proud of it, I hope you enjoy it!

Dan has his first kiss when he’s 13. The girl is older than him, but only by a year, and her lips are soft and taste like cherry. It’s for a dare, but Dan thinks she’s pretty so he doesn’t mind. When their lips meet, he expects fireworks and lightning. All he feels is her gentle lips against his dry, chapped ones. It’s not magical, but it’s okay. He figures the fireworks would come with someone he truly loves.

He has his first girlfriend when he is 14. It lasts for two weeks and the furthest they go is kissing. Just like before, it’s not magical. Dan realises that maybe the fireworks aren’t for everybody.

When Dan is 15, he begins to notice that maybe something is wrong with him. His friends become obsessed with pornography and girls. They all seem caught up in the idea of sex, something Dan is completely indifferent to. An awkward group conversation (though only awkward to him) reveals that almost all guys his age masturbate, when he hasn’t even thought about it before. 

He tries when he gets home; he puts on porn and sits down, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. Five minutes later he climaxes and it’s nice, nothing like what people made it out to be, but the disgusting feeling he gets afterwards is enough to convince him to never try it again.

That same week in chemistry a girl asks to be his lab partner, she spends the entire lesson laughing at everything he says and touching his arm. It makes him slightly uncomfortable. He only finds out much later that she was trying to flirt with him. 

“Maybe you’re just a late bloomer” someone suggests and Dan agrees but deep down he knows that this won’t ever change. It’s part of who he is; he just doesn’t quite know how to feel about it.

When he’s 18 he meets Phil in person for the first time. Even after months of 4am Skype calls, nothing could quite prepare him to be stood in front of Phil. His breath catches in his throat because _Jesus Christ this is actually happening_ , when Phil’s arms wrap around him Dan has never felt more at home.

At the end of that week, Phil kisses Dan on the lips and he doesn’t stop smiling for a week afterwards. It’s not quite fireworks, but it’s still pretty fucking magical. 

The next time they meet, Dan kisses Phil. The kiss is longer this time, when they break away both of them are smiling like absolute idiots. Phil kisses Dan again and deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into Dan’s mouth. Dan freezes because there is an actual tongue in his mouth and it’s supposed to be great but it just feels gross. The nice feeling associated with kissing disappears. He pulls away, ignores Phil’s hurt look, and changes the subject. Phil doesn’t try to kiss Dan again during the visit, and Dan only realises when he gets home that Phil probably thought Dan didn’t want to kiss him. He calls Phil that night, but doesn’t really know how to explain anything so he hangs up before Phil can pick up.

It’s 1 am, and Dan decides that love isn’t worth it. He’s at a house party and the cider he’s drinking tastes too sweet and the air is thick with the scent of alcohol and vomit. His friend has been upstairs with a girl for around 15 minutes, leaving Dan alone to contemplate everything. Someone is sat on the same sofa as him crying over their girlfriend leaving them. She’s holding a bottle of vodka and when she takes a drink Dan can see the makeup smudged over her face. He wonders why anyone would want put themselves though that.

The next time he meets Phil, Dan kisses him. Phil freezes for a second and pulls away, when he tells Dan that he has a boyfriend, the room suddenly becomes too small and Dan can’t breathe past the lump in his throat. Maybe this is what love feels like.

He remembers someone once telling him that to fall in love is to give someone the power to hurt you and at that moment in time he’s never felt more vulnerable. It surprises him how much it hurts to hear that Phil found someone else

Dan wonders how he can love people without wanting to have sex with them. It doesn’t occur to him that the two things can be separate. 

The visit with Phil lasts for too long, with too many awkward silences and Dan can’t bring himself to be happy for Phil. The smile he plasters on his face is obviously fake and he can see the pity in Phil’s eyes. When he gets home he cries himself to sleep and doesn’t leave the house for three days.

He reaches that conclusion that maybe Phil is better off with someone who can have sex. Someone normal. Phil deserves someone who can love him like he would love them.

It’s 4am and the vodka he’s drinking tastes like being with Phil, when he throws it up later he decides that it tastes like loving Phil.

When he wakes the next morning, the world spinning and his head hurting from the hangover, he tries to call Phil, the call rings a few times before the cheery tone of Phil’s answer phone message tells him to leave a message. He pauses a second, blinks a few times, then he’s rushing to the toilet and vomiting everything he ate last night, which wasn’t much anyway, into the porcelain toilet. His breathing is coming far too fast and the world spins dangerously in front of his face. When he’s done vomiting, he leans back, sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. He hyperventilates, clawing at his arms with his nails to try and feel anything other than the raw panic and anxiety settling in his chest. 

Dan’s glad Phil didn’t pick up, because he’s a fucking mess. 

Ten minutes later, Phil calls him back. Dan picks up, because honestly, what else is he supposed to do? Phil sounds breathless and his voice is low, in the background he can hear a male laughing and whispering something to Phil, too quiet for him to hear through the phone. Dan feels sick as he realises what happened. He makes something up about why he called, its obvious Phil doesn’t believe him but he doesn’t dwell on it. The call ends quickly and leaves Dan feeling worse than before. 

The next time Dan visits Phil, he hears that Phil broke up with his boyfriend, he doesn’t specify the reason and Dan doesn’t ask. He tries to be sympathetic towards Phil, but the way his heart flutters whenever Phil looks at him convinces him otherwise.

Every time he looks at Phil, it feels as though he’s being stabbed in the chest. It hurts that he could never be with Phil; Phil deserves someone who could love him fully. Why would Phil settle for him when he deserves forever? More than forever? 

It hurts, but Dan learns to cope. He learns to not break down every time Phil takes someone home, or tells Dan about a girl he met at the Starbucks in Manchester. It hurts so fucking much but Dan deals. He settles for what he can get, rather than pushing for more. 

Dan decides that the worst part is how oblivious Phil is to his pain. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

Dan withdraws, pulling away from any form of physical contact with Phil. He thinks that distancing himself will make it hurt less. 

It doesn’t. 

Sometimes Dan wakes up crying. He doesn’t know where the sobs come from, but it’s hard for him to control them. Mostly it happens after he visits Phil. 

Dan isn’t really getting much better.

A year passes since Phil broke up with his boyfriend and Dan drops out of university. A few months later, Phil asks Dan to move in with him, strictly platonically of course, and Dan agrees since they both need a roommate and isn’t this the best option?

Their Manchester flat is small, but it becomes home, “the phlat” as Phil jokingly calls it. As much as Dan hates it he can’t help the way his heart leaps in his chest at every mention of “our house”, because it is theirs, only not in the way he wants. 

Dan knows now when Phil brings people home. Only he doesn’t, because it never happens. Phil doesn’t stay the night, and no one comes here. 

He notices that the way Phil behaves around him has changed. He’s not sure when it happened, but suddenly they are more comfortable with each other. The wall that Dan created in pushing Phil away slowly breaks down and Dan lets it. 

The two of them become closer than before, only without the physical intimacy of kissing. 

The only thing this does is further complicate Dan’s feelings towards Phil. 

Dan still thinks about his feelings, about how he can love someone, but not fully, not in the way they expect. He wonders if Phil would accept him the way he is.

One year after they move in together, Phil kisses him. It’s gentle and hesitant, as if he’s testing how Dan will react. Dan freezes for a second before white hot anger explodes out of him. 

He doesn’t understand why he is angry, but he is and for a few moments, he lets it control him. 

He shoves Phil off him and walks out of the room, grabbing his keys, phone and jacket before leaving the flat, slamming the door behind him.

His anger fuels his walking. He stops by a park, before walking in and sitting down on a bench underneath a tree. It’s cold outside; he can see his breath puff out in small clouds in front of him and his hands are buried deep in his coat pockets to block out the cold. 

Dan pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens it onto his contacts. He selects Phil’s name and hovers above it, debating whether or not to press call. 

He settles instead on sending a text. Dan rewrites it several times before finally pressing send.

**~**

**To: Phil**

**From: Dan**

**I’m sorry**

**~**

He stays at the bench for another hour. The cold chills him deep inside, and he stopped shivering long ago. His phone has buzzed in his pocket since then, but he doesn’t look at it, he daren’t. 

He stands, his joints creaking from being sat in the same position and starts walking home. He has to face Phil at some point, the quicker he gets it over with, the better it will be. 

He checks his phone just before he reaches the flat. Phil has texted him twice, once saying that it was okay, that Dan didn’t need to be sorry and again asking where he was.

Dan swallows, nauseas at the fact that Phil blames himself for Dan’s reaction. It’s not Phil’s fault. Dan just has to explain everything, and then it will all be okay. 

But how is he going to do that? How can he articulate the feelings that have bothered him since he was 14?

He opens the door. 

The flat is eerily silent as he climbs the stairs, the usual sounds of TV are not audible and he can’t hear any movement. He reaches the living room, a sense of anticipation almost causing him to tiptoe though the house until he shakes away the anxious feeling twisting in the centre of his stomach. The room is deserted, and he walks towards their separate bedrooms. Just before he reaches up to knock on Phil’s door, it opens to reveal Phil. His hair is mussed up, as though he’s been tugging his fingers through it, his shirt is crinkled and his face is slightly puffy. Faint tear tracks are still visible on his cheeks. 

Dan feels his heart drop into his chest. He can’t do this, his voice fails as he stands staring at Phil. Eventually he speaks, 

“I’m sorry.” Phil blinks up at him; this was obviously not the response he expected. 

“Why are you sorry, you did nothing wrong? It was me, I shouldn’t have kissed you, it was stupid and foolish and I had somehow managed to convince myself that you loved me back.”

This is his chance, 

“I love you, just not in the way you love me.” 

Phil’s shoulders visibly sink, and Dan realises what Phil thought he meant he only loved Phil as a friend. 

“No, I love you more than a friend, but not enough.” Dan struggles to explain himself as Phil watches on, eyes wide and a fresh wave of tears is brimming behind them. Dan’s heart drops as he realises he is the reason why Phil is crying. 

“Dan I get it, it is fine. It’s not your fault.” Phil continues, his voice thick and wet. 

“You don’t understand, I don’t love you, not in the same way you love me.” Dan regrets saying this as soon as the words leave his mouth. He tries to find the words to explain how he feels, but how can he tell Phil that he doesn’t look at him the same way that Phil looks at him?

“No, I didn’t mean that. I just don’t love you fully, like sexually. I can’t help it; if I could I’d choose to not be broken like this, but it is just a part of who I am. I’ve never liked it. Not even when I was 15 and all of my friends were horny and started spending more of their alone time on porn marathons, but when I tried and I felt so disgusting, so wrong, that it was enough for me to never try it again. Not when I had my first serious girlfriend and I had to force myself to have sex with her just so I could prove to her just how much I loved her.

“I wish I could change, fucking hell, I wish everything about me was different so that I could love people correctly, I wish I wasn’t this freak that can’t love anyone. 

“At first I thought I was gay, but then I realised it just feel the same for everyone. I don’t feel sexual attraction and I can’t help it but I wish I could.”

He takes a deep breath, a tear drips down his cheek and he realises that he’s also crying. 

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, but that still isn’t enough, not for you, not for anyone. You’d be better off without me.” He finishes, it feels as though a huge weight is gone from his shoulders and he realises that this is the first time he has told any of this to anyone. 

Dan stands, suddenly feeling far too anxious to be sat down. He looks at Phil’s face, nervous about his reaction. Phil looks shocked, his mouth is open slightly and his eyes are looking at Dan, who turns and walks out of the room. 

Sure, now that he has told someone, he feels better, but that feeling has quickly been replaced by the terrifying thoughts that perhaps Phil would think he was a freak, broken. Just like everyone else.

He didn’t really know why he thought it would be any different this time.

He shuts the bathroom door behind him and collapses against the door, choking out a sob. Dan lifts his hands up to his face and cries silently. 

Phil won’t accept him because of this. He’s broken and now Phil knows. 

He hears movement outside the door and listens intently, hearing a faint shuffling of feet and small huffs of breath as someone – presumably Phil – sat down outside the door. Dan wipes his eyes, not daring to acknowledge Phil’s presence for fear of rejection.

He breathes in and out, waiting for Phil to make the first move. To say something, anything, to break the oppressive silence falling between them. Despite the barrier of the door, nothing can calm Dan’s anxiety. 

There’s a long silence before Phil finally speaks.

“Have you ever heard of the term ‘asexual’?” 

“No.” Dan responds quietly, so quiet that for a second he worries that Phil didn’t hear. 

“It’s a sexual orientation. I think maybe you’d be interested in it. Not that I’m trying to say what your orientation is, that’s up to you to decide, but I think you might want to check it out.” 

“What does it mean?” Dan asks, hopeful that Phil is sat outside talking to him, that despite knowing everything that Dan feels, he still cares about him. 

“It’s a term for someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction. They can still love people romantically though.” 

Dan’s head snaps upward, he doesn’t even try to hide to hide his shock.

“You mean the two things are different?” He asks, for the first time feeling hopeful that maybe he isn’t as messed up as he thought. 

“Yeah, there’s a whole range of both romantic and sexual orientations.” Phil’s voice has an undetectable tone to it, somewhere between happiness and anxiety and Dan struggles to decipher the emotion. 

“You’re not alone, Dan” Phil adds as an afterthought. Dan’s heart races, there’s others like him. There’s a word to describe how he feels. He isn’t broken. 

Before he realises what he’s doing, Dan has stood and opened the door, to reveal Phil sat down facing the door, his legs crossed in front of him. Phil stands quickly, and wraps his arms around Dan as his friend struggles to contain his emotions. Dan relaxes into the hug, letting Phil comfort him. His mind races, the worlds Phil woke buzzing around his head. 

Asexual. 

There’s a word for it. 

He’s going to be okay. 

Dan spends the next few hours until the early morning researching asexuality, looking at the labels and the definitions until he finds one that fits, that he likes. 

He decides on panromantic asexual. On the sex repulsed end of the spectrum. It’s weird, to finally have an answer to the biggest problem in his life. 

_I’m not broken. I’m not broken._ He repeats to himself mentally. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. 

Now he only needs to tell Phil. He stands, leaving the warmth of the soft duvet behind, and walks into the living room. 

“Panromatic asexual. On the sex-repulsed end of the spectrum.” He says, his voice till croaky from crying earlier. 

Phil doesn’t say anything, he simply stands and wraps his arms around Dan, who buries his face into Phil’s neck. 

“I’m happy for you.” Phil adds quietly, whispering it into Dan’s ear.

Dan takes a deep breath before whispering, “I love you.”

He counts to ten before Phil answers. 

“I love you too.”

“Even if I won’t have sex with you?” Dan asks, anxiety forcing him to think Phil would leave him. 

“Even if the furthest we go is kissing. I love you, Dan, not sex.”

Dan smiles softly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, “for everything.”

He kisses Phil and, this time, he feels fireworks inside his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> There's some information on asexuality here if you're curious and want to learn more: http://www.asexuality.org/home
> 
> I would just like to point out that people experience asexuality in a variety of different ways, in this fic Dan falls on the sex repulsed end of the spectrum. Each person will experience it differently and I am not trying to generalise all asexuals.


End file.
